


Pushing daisies

by mofumanju



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Hospital, M/M, mention of daydream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 23:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8598340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mofumanju/pseuds/mofumanju
Summary: He dreams of places he won’t ever visit, he sees fields of daisies waving as the wind sighs between the trees, and he wonders what Paradise looks like, and if he’ll be able to see it with his own eyes, one day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I promised just to write happy things for the Keichi69mins challenge, but you all know I'm a liar.  
> But at least this had to end in a more awful way so you're kind of safe - and so am I.

Eichi is a child who grabs to the white sheets of a hospital bed, feeling his lungs burning and his eyes filling with tears he’s tired of crying. Children aren’t supposed to wish for something like death, they aren’t supposed to hope for an angel to take their hand and bring them to a better world, where they don’t have to deal with daily injections or IVs dripping drugs on their small body, with a pain that would be unbearable even for a adult. And yet, Eichi prays every night, when he closes his eyes and morphine starts to kick in, that someone will come to take him. He dreams of places he won’t ever visit, he sees fields of daisies waving as the wind sighs between the trees, and he wonders what Paradise looks like, and if he’ll be able to see it with his own eyes, one day.    
  
Keito takes his hand, hot and soft - he never smiles, and if he does, it lasts for the blink of an eye, but it’s enough for Eichi to feel better, to feel safe. He still hates to lay in bed - he hasn’t stop to hope for death to come when his body aches and his soul is tainted with a weight crushing against his chest - but Keito gives him something to hold onto: he gives him a new story every time they meet, he gives him a whole story imprinted in a sketchbook where they are together and alive, healthy, where Eichi can run in those fields of daisies and hide behind the trees, laughing without being afraid of pain, without being afraid of his lungs suddenly constricting and letting the air out. He’s a prince, he’s a pirate, he’s the damsel in distress that finds a way to escape his sad fate, and his dreams are full of landscapes he can explore with bare feet, and Keito is always there to hold his hand and tell him that everything will be okay, until he’s beside him.

He loves his dreams.    


Sometimes, instead, he hates them.

 

Keito shakes his head, when Eichi talks about becoming an idol - there’s that Hibiki on tv that makes magic tricks and sings with a voice that Eichi compares to the voice of an angel, more because he loves to look at the frown on Keito’s face than because he really think so. And still, spending his time in front of a laptop and watching videos makes him wonder if he can become an idol as well, someone who gives hopes and love to people, someone that can set his own wings and fly far away from the boring ground of the ordinary, constantly sick, soon to die people. He looks at his fingers, pale and thin, and wonders how must it feel, to hold a microphone and sing full-throated, leaving any worry behind. He dreams a stage full of lights and colours, he dreams an audience that holds a rainbow of lightsticks and screams his name, and it feels good, to be at the top, to feel like his illness never soiled his body, never soiled his soul.    


He wants to try. He wants to step into the dream and turn it into a reality. And Keito nods.   


 

  
His heart beats so fast, like if someone had just injected a dose of adrenaline right into it. Eichi tries to smile and keeps singing, because pain isn’t stronger than him, pain won’t let him step back and leave a stage he has worked so hard to be on. He doesn’t care if he will die, after this, he doesn’t care if he will drain his body of all the strength, he  doesn’t care if, as soon as the last note will leave his lips, he will fall in the eternal sleep.    


He’s tired of trying, and if this is the last bit of a dream he worked so hard to built well, it’s okay, he guesses. 

Which is not, because Keito is watching at him, eyes widening as the first drops of blood start to roll from his lips and under his chin, getting his pure white uniform dirty with a red that he will never get rid off. He stops before the song ends, his unit looking at him with pity and not a hint of concern if not for Tsumugi, poor Tsumugi, probably the only one that cared about him enough to call for his name. It’s the silver hair of Hibiki Wataru, the last thing he sees before his eyes close, and if that’s the end of his dream it’s okay, really, it’s okay.

He just want to feel Keito’s hand in his own, and hear his voice as he tells him the story of an hero that stumbled on his feet and fell.

 

Keito’s face is buried on his hands, when he opens his eyes and the sound of life support pierce his eyes with all the intention to make them bleed. The oxygen mask kills any try to make Keito hear his voice, so Eichi tries to reach for him another way, raising his hand, touching his head.     


They don’t speak if not with their eyes - and there are so many things in Keito’s eyes, now, things that Eichi wants to hear, things that Eichi already knows even if the other one doesn’t put them into words. It’s in the trembling grasp on his hand, it’s on the soft kiss Keito leaves on the back of his hand, that Eichi can read the love - Keito left everything he cared about just to be by his side, the side of a dream eater that tried until the very last to survive just to feel more alive than anybody else.    


He can’t speak, but he feels strong enough to take Keito’s hand on his own, to open his fingers like a blooming flower to write a kanji on his palm, as he tries to smile between tears he cannot control. 

_ Tale _ . 

And it’s enough for Keito to understand, and as he holds on Eichi’s hand again, he smiles and starts to tell a story. 

Eichi wonders if can dream of it, if can dream of Keito saving him from the tower he built around himself with the hopes he crushed, starting with his own.    
Because there’s no hope, for someone like him.

 


End file.
